From 2012, pregnant with our angel.

Last week, in a professional setting with someone who should have entirely more tact and poise, told me I was showing at the end of a very sensitive business conversation.

There was no mistake about it, this man thought I was pregnant.

Thought it enough that he said it outloud, to me, on my birthday.

The real rub of it is – this person is aware of my struggles to bring children into this world. Because of how it’s impacted my career and my health, he knows more than many of my very dear friends and family members. I wish that weren’t the case but that’s the world we live in.

I held it together in the moment but I thank the Lord that I have an office with a door because I most certainly closed it and cried.

For the rest of the week, I questioned everything I put in my mouth and every piece of clothing I wore.

After a week of self-pity, and a little more vodka than is probably reasonable, here’s what I think about it.

First of all, it blows my mind in today’s day and age how inappropriate people can be. I have to put it in writing that unless the baby is crowning, you don’t talk about it until the mother does. Let me also say the same for someone’s sexuality, religion, political views…let’s just not assume shall we.

Secondly, it just pisses me off that in a workplace, women’s bodies remain under such scrutiny.

The other thing I want to say is this. I am showing…just not in the way he thinks.

I’m showing 3 years of struggle. Three years of trying to accept the very hard reality we needed to face when we learned of our first son’s set of issues that were, in medical terms, not conducive with life.

I’m showing nine months carrying Lucas, questioning every decision I made even though I had no control of the outcomes. Praying with every breath that this time it would be different.

I’m showing 17 months celebrating the beautiful child that lights up my world with smiles and laughter every day.

And I’m showing four months since my body played an evil trick, thinking it was pregnant when in fact it was not a baby but potentially cancer.

I’m showing the world the very place where my babies lived, were loved and where I carried every hope in the world for them as long as I was able.

So no dude, I haven’t been thinking about the gym or calorie counts.

I’ve been thinking about hope and holding my head up. I’ve been thinking about joy and gratitude. And I’ve been thinking about moving forward.